


Peeping Toms

by KnightlyWordsmith



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 10:45:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3287393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KnightlyWordsmith/pseuds/KnightlyWordsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While spying on a private moment between the Wardens, their companions share their varying opinions on the romance budding between them. Until they get caught that is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peeping Toms

Always observing from the outside, Morrigan had long since become aware of her travelling companions habits once they had set up camp for the night. For the most part tonight was like any other.

Wynne was busy brushing out the coat of the Warden’s mabari. To its credit the hound sat silently, though its tail twitched back and forth in impatience.  Zevran was flicking daggers at a gnarled old tree. Closer to the fire, Ogrhen appeared to be trying to convince Sten to share a mug of some, no doubt vile, brew with him.

The only thing amiss was the rather apparent lack of their Wardens, and Leliana sitting suspiciously close to the edge of camp. She periodically glanced through the stand of reeds she was sitting beside, smiling to herself every time.

Her curiosity finally getting the better of her, Morrigan walked over to the former lay sister. “What has you smiling so?” Morrigan asked the woman who once again had her head stuck through the reeds.

Leliana jumped at the sound of her voice. She looked up with a startled expression. Apparently Morrigan wasn’t who she’d feared she was, for Leliana’s face relaxed, and that same grin that had continued to sneak onto her face for the past few minutes was in place once again. “Oh nothing,” Leliana replied much too innocently.

“I never trust anyone when they say that,” Morrigan narrowed her eyes and took another pace forward.

“Look for yourself then,” Leliana gestured at the stand of reeds she was peeking through, and leant back to give Morrigan space to look.

Setting her lips in a faint scowl Morrigan stepped forward at Leliana’s offer. She pushed aside a few of the reeds to lay her eyes on a most horrid of sights.

“Oh no, she’s not doing this is she?” The only thing more obvious than the disgust in Morrigan’s voice was the scowl on her face. “She can do so much better than him.”

“Really? I think they’re very cute together?” Leliana practically bubbled.

Morrigan swallowed the bile in her throat that rose in response to Leliana’s gushing. “Cute? You think that hairless rat of yours is cute,” she countered, gesturing across the camp to Leliana’s pet nug.  Schmooples chattered nosily, as if knowing he was being talked about.

Morrigan glared at the animal. Between the hyper aware nug, and the Warden’s keen minded hound, the animals they travelled with were far more aware than she liked. She half suspected them of being shape shifters like herself.

“I cannot believe she is falling for a bumbling fool who doesn’t know which boot goes on which foot.” Despite her scornful words Morrigan scooted closer to Leliana so she could more comfortably peer through the reeds.

“They say love is blind.” Leliana seemed determined to meet every one of Morrigan’s glares with a smile of equal intensity.

Out past the edge of camp, where the two Warden’s stood under the shade of a willow tree, Alistair was holding something out to the woman beside him. “He’s not really going to is he?” Morrigan said in disbelief. “Of all things a rose? Really? He’s going to woo her with that relic from days gone by?”

“Ah, but the classics never die,” Leliana said confidently. “All great stories of love involve roses passed between lovers.”

Their Warden was smiling shyly at something Alistair said. Had it been possible, Morrigan’s lip would have curled further at the disgustingly cute display. “I tell you, if she falls for a rose I’m going to lose respect for her. Even more than I already am for her even entertaining the idea of _Alistair_.”

“It will work, roses are always good,” Leliana insisted. “Trust me.”

“A good show out there?” A voice inquired from behind the two women. Morrigan hated to admit it, but she jumped alongside Leliana. The two of them were far too engrossed in what was happening outside the edge of their camp. Blond hair gleaming in the faint moonlight, and a white grin flashing, Zevran had managed to creep within two feet of them without them even knowing. A testament to his Crow training no doubt.

“We are watching one of the greatest tragedies of our time unfold before our very eyes.” Morrigan’s voice was a dry as a desert.

“Oh?” Zevran stepped forward, completely mindless of personal space, and pushed between Morrigan and Leliana to look through the reeds.

“He’s not really offering her a rose is he?” Zevran _tsked_ his tongue sadly.

“That’s what I was saying,” Morrigan said. At least someone had the sense to realize how ridiculous it was.

“Poor man, doesn’t he know that poetry is the way to women’s heart?” The elf shook his head. “The more lurid the better,” he added with a smooth grin.

Leliana shifted away from him. A difficult feat if she still wanted to be able to be in a good enough spot to spy on the Wardens. “You have got to be the most disgusting  man I have ever met.”

“Disgusting man? You wouldn’t all be talking about old Ogrhen now would you?” The dwarf himself was standing not far behind the peeping trio, the hulking form of Sten silhouetted behind him. While the dwarf was grinning, the qunari looked more confused than anything.

“No,” Leliana shook her head, then added. “Not this time at least.”

“Hrmph,” Ogrhen stepped closer, and the three by the reeds got a good whiff of his ever present stench of week old brandy. “So what is it that’s got you all gathered around the edge of camp. You don’t look suspicious in the slightest.”

“Some would call it a disaster of epic proportions, others a romance for the ages,” Zevran said, the disdain dripping from his voice at the end of his words making it clear what his thoughts were on the matter.

 “Oh, heh, heh, heh,” Ogrhen guffawed. He pressed closer to get a look himself. Morrigan reeled backward from the oppressing stench of liquor that wafted around the dwarf, relinquishing her spot to him in the process. “Our Wardens are finally gonna do the do are they?”

“What is this ‘do’ that everyone speaks of?” Sten asked with the same frustrated confusion he always did when dealing with unfamiliar Ferelden customs.

“Sex, Sten,” Zevran replied dryly. “Or mating, or copulation or whatever it is that your people call it? Now that I think about it, do qunari even have sex?” Zevran tilted his head in contemplation.

“The qunari are aware of what the term ‘sex’ means,” Sten glowered at the elf. “And how else do you propose that new qunari are born?”

“How should I know? You are such a secretive people,” Zevran shrugged. “You seem very attached to your swords. Maybe someday you just plant them in the ground, and out sprouts a little qunari.”

“That has to be one of the stupidest things I have ever heard,” Sten replied, flatly and as serious as ever. “This land is full of unintelligent people, who say even less intelligent things.” Zevran only shrugged again, then returned to peering through the reeds.

“What can we say Sten, we’re just from very different cultures,” Leliana’s  friendly reply was met with only a noise of frustration.

“Dammit!” Zevran cursed. “She fell for it! She actually took lover boy’s rose!”

“Let me see!” Morrigan shoved the elf out of the way so that he toppled into Leliana’s lap. Before Zevran could muster up a sly smile or even waggle his eyebrows, Leliana was shoving him off her and into the dirt behind them. “Oh no she did not!” Morrigan raised her hand as if to slam it on the ground beside her. She stopped herself just before doing so. She glanced around, aware of how uncharacteristically invested she was getting in the events before them.

His back still flat on the ground Zevran sighed. “She really could do so much better than him.”

“That is what I have been saying this whole time,” Morrigan grumbled.

“I mean, if I knew she was eager for male company I would have been all ready to warm her bedroll,” Zevran continued in a reasonable tone.

“You, gutter-spawn, are not what I meant,” Morrigan snapped.

“Oh? Gutter-spawn is it?” Zevran gave a low, enticing chuckle. “You learn a great many things in dark, dirty places like the gutter. I assume it would be similar growing up in a swamp, no?” His low voice, and delicately raised eyebrows contrasted ridiculously with the way he was still sprawled out in the dirt. Not that it should be a surprise coming from the same elf who when they had first met hadn’t even stepped out of the pool of his own blood before he started fliting with the Warden.

With some difficulty, Morrigan resisted the urge to stomp on the elf’s face. Instead she said lightly, “In the swamp you learn such things as the appearance of all of the poisonous plants which grow there. To avoid eating them of course.”

“You know, I am not adverse to a little danger. It makes everything more fun,” Zevran replied, and sat up so that he was no longer lying on the ground. “Perhaps I could bring my own knowledge of poisonous plants over to your cozy little fire and we could get to know one another better?”

“Why, you lecherous-“

“Shush,” Leliana hissed over Morrigan’s raised voice. “They’re going to hear us.”

It wasn’t the Wardens they had to worry about though. A precise throat clearing, the kind that only came with many years of practice in disrupting unruly behaviour, sounded behind them. All five of those clustered by the reeds swivelled around to see Wynne, hands on hips, glaring at them. At her side was the Warden’s mabari.

“I should hope you all are not doing what I think you are,” Wynne said evenly. “If so, you should all be ashamed of yourselves.” The mabari barked a sharp agreement.

When no one said anything Wynne raised one thin brow. “Well?”

It was Sten who finally spoke. “We are watching to see if the Grey Wardens are going to do the do.”

Wynne may have had decades of teaching experience and likely had heard her fair share of interesting tales and strange exploits, but even she couldn’t keep a stern face at the stoic way the qunari put those words. Her eyes widened, her raised brow twitched and her lips even puckered slightly.

Before Wynne could launch into a lecture of some sort, Leliana waved her arms in a placating manner. “That’s not what we’re doing, “ she directed the words as much to Sten as she did the mage. The qunari seemed completely unperturbed by the look plastered on Wynne’s face.

“Isn’t it?” Ogrhen grunted.

“No, it’s not,” Leliana shot a glare in the dwarf’s direction.

“Well then, may I please know what has you all suspiciously clustered around the bushes ,” Wynne had managed to composed her features once again. “When our Wardens happen to be absent from camp, I might add.”

                “We are merely watching to see what kind of romance our adventure might include in its tale,” Leliana played the bard card as innocently as she could.

“Or in some cases, we are watching in the hope that our adventure includes no such thing,” Morrigan snorted.

“I’m really just here hoping to get to see some action,” Ogrhen grunted. At the looks he got, the dwarf just shrugged. “What?”

“I take back what I said earlier,” Leliana said to Zevran. “He’s the most disgusting man I’ve ever met.”

“Whatever your reasons for being here are, whether they be innocent, immoral, or down right depraved, you all best stop this at once,” Wynne insisted. “Whatever is going on out there is a private moment between the two of them, and none of our business.”

“Are you really going to try and stop our fun?” Zevran asked.

Wynne lowered her brows a fraction of an inch. It was enough to turn the wise old woman’s expression from a kind, albeit reprimanding, one, to a downright threatening one. “Might I remind you young man, that as a healer I have an intimate knowledge of the bodies of all races present. And I know how easy it is to upset that balance,” she said calmly. Too calmly in fact. “So no, I won’t physically get in the way of your fun, as you call it. I doubt I could overpower you all here now if I wanted. However, if you find yourself with food escaping from both ends sometime in the future you won’t have to wonder the cause.”

Zevran winced. “Duly noted, “ he nodded at the mage and then clapped his hands together. To his fellow peepers he said, “Might I suggest we retire to the campfire? Perhaps we can come up with some truly stinging one-liners to throw at our Wardens when they return.” He stood up.

Ogrhen was the next to step up and away from the reeds. “If you need time to come up with jokes at their expense, then you disappoint me elf.”

Wynne stared the rest of them down levelly as they slowly stepped away from the reeds, and headed toward the fire in the middle of their camp. Even Morrigan clustered around the fire with them, rather than retreat to her own, smaller, one at the other edge of the campsite.

Wynne herself glanced between the reeds and the forms of her companions now basked in the glow of the fire. With a last, surreptitious look over her shoulder, the mage sidestepped closer to the bushes. Reaching out she brushed aside a few fronds. She’d just take a quick peek.

A short growl sounded out behind her. The Warden’s mabari was looking at her, one side of its lip raised slightly, but its small tail was wagging just enough that Wynne knew she was just getting a reprimand and not an actual threat. Not yet in any case.

“Oh all right. I’m going too,” Wynne said and she herself headed toward the fire. The mabari hound followed happily at her heels. “I just wanted to be sure they were getting along.”

From what she had seen from her quick glance, of the two of them wrapped in each other’s arms, it would seem they were getting on quite nicely.


End file.
